


Reciprocity

by clover71



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5822401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clover71/pseuds/clover71
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nonchalant as he may be on most things, Tezuka somehow finds it difficult to remain impassive where Atobe is concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reciprocity

**Author's Note:**

> \- This is a longer version of a drabble written for the prompt 'kiss me' from the dialogue/drabble meme spin-a-wheel game I created myself (URL is too long so I won't place it here)  
> \- also written for the prompt/trope 'hurt/comfort' for Trope Bingo 2015 Round 5  
> \- contains spoiler for NPoT chapter 150 and this is my own version of what happened afterwards
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This fic is written for non-profit purpose and author does not stake a claim to Prince of Tennis and its characters. Copyright is owned by the creator, Konomi Takeshi.  
> .  
> .

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Pained disappointment flashes on Atobe's face before he stalks over to the side of the court to gather his things. He doesn't even spare his doubles partner, Irie, or anyone else for that matter, a second glance. Not even Oishi's wary attempt to intervene or Sanada's outburst of "Wait, Atobe! You can't leave!" works to keep the usually proud Hyoutei captain from walking out of the arena.

It's that vivid expression that haunts Tezuka for the rest of the day – that indefinable image of Atobe after losing to him and QP burned into the forefront of his mind. 

Nonchalant as he may be on most things, Tezuka somehow finds it difficult to remain impassive where Atobe is concerned. Especially after overhearing some of his former U-17 colleagues discussing the possibility of Atobe quitting tennis, which is – in Tezuka's opinion – nonsensical because he's certain that one thing Atobe isn't is a quitter.

Tezuka does his best to repel the idea of seeking out Atobe but the words he has heard keep clawing at the back of his mind. 

_Atobe-san isn't quitting, is he?_

_I don't think he is, Kirihara-kun._

_But Shiraishi, he could be. I mean, did you see his face after the match?_

_All I saw was a look of determination, Kin-chan. Determination to do better, perhaps._

_Well, I can't blame him if he does quit tennis._

_Atobe-kun isn't someone who will give up that easily, Kite-kun._

Regardless of how much Tezuka wants to believe in Shiraishi's words and his voice of reason, deep concern for Atobe drives him to search for the Hyoutei captain and finds him nearly an hour later in one of the practice courts dueling with a tennis ball machine.

Tezuka approaches in silence, watching Atobe's graceful swings while moving across his side of the court in well-choreographed and refined steps as if he's dancing the tango. The way Atobe plays has always captivated him. Mesmerized him even.

Lost in thought, Tezuka doesn't even notice that Atobe's done with the current round of practice until Atobe's deep, dulcet voice, saying, "Are you just going to stand there and watch?" eases him out of his musing.

Atobe swings his racket up and lets the head rest on his shoulder. His onyx eyes bore into Tezuka's amber ones, holding Tezuka in place. There's something about Atobe's gaze – sharp, determined, challenging – that makes Tezuka's heart jump.

"Well?" Atobe prompts when Tezuka doesn't say anything. "What are you doing here, Tezuka? Did you come here for an unofficial rematch or are you here to mock me after my resounding loss?"

The last part makes Tezuka blink and then jump into defense. "Mocking you is something I'll never do, Atobe. You should know me better."

Atobe laughs at that, crisp sound reverberating through the air. "I was just teasing, Tezuka. Lighten up, okay?" The smile that settles on Atobe's lips causes something warm and comforting to blossom within Tezuka's chest. 

"I was the one who lost in a match hours ago," Atobe's saying while he takes slow, calculated steps toward Tezuka. "Shouldn't I be the one wearing that face?" He drops his racket to his side before coming closer, close enough that they're sharing the same bubble. "You were awesome back there, you know. You haven't been in Germany for long but you've greatly improved. Makes me wonder if that has always been your real strength and you were just holding back when you played me."

"You know I didn't—" 

A finger pressed against his lips silences Tezuka. Atobe's smile melts into something warm, his eyes going soft. "I know you didn't. But I just had to go through the whole drama process to justify why we lost before coming to terms with the reality that the real reason why I was so upset wasn't because of the loss but because during that match, you looked at me like I was some stranger, just another opponent." His hand drops to Tezuka's chest, the heat of his palm seeping through the fabric of Tezuka's shirt. "And that hurt. After everything that happened between us. I know I shouldn't even be thinking about it, but."

Memories of heated kisses and hungry touches flood Tezuka's mind – memories that he has shoved inside a box in his head because he thinks it will only get in the way of his dreams, of moving on, of surging forward. But something inside him unfurls when he sees the emotions defined on Atobe's face.

"Keigo," falls from Tezuka's lips – the name spoken on rare occasions. He knows – and Atobe knows – it's a sign that Tezuka's letting his guard down, that he's dropping his emotional shield. He strokes Atobe's cheek with the back of his fingers, the gesture unlocking feelings that breaks all the barriers he has painstakingly set around him.

The mask Atobe often wears dissolves into an honest manifestation of Atobe's affectionate side. His eyes brim with tenderness, lips part as he breathes out, "Kunimutsu," and leans into the touch. The hand resting on Tezuka's chest slides up to cup his cheek. "Kunimitsu. Kiss me."

Half of Tezuka reasons that he shouldn't. They're in a public place and anyone can see, something they can't risk, not right now and not right here at least. Half of him though says, _To hell with it,_ and the latter half wins. 

Tezuka closes the gap between them, brushing his lips against Atobe's, light touches at first. He slides arm around Atobe's waist, encouraging Atobe to press harder, their mouths locking, their tongues swirling and sliding in that delicious familiar friction.

Faint but distinct noise causes Tezuka to break the kiss. He whips his head around, asks, "Did you hear that?" but finds nothing. 

"I thought I heard something click but I don't see anyone. Or anything," Atobe says, eyes likewise surveying the grounds. 

When certain that they're still alone, Tezuka faces Atobe, resting his hands on Atobe's hips. "Look, Keigo," he starts, finding the need to explain. To apologize. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. I didn't mean for it to turn out that way. I just had to keep a firm façade for my teammates. They don't trust me enough as it is."

"I understand." Atobe leans his forehead against Tezuka's, their breaths mingling. "I was just worried that you were keeping me at arms length already."

"I'm not." Tezuka gives Atobe's hips a light squeeze hoping it's enough to convey the feelings he finds hard to express in words. "I meant what I said the day I left the camp, that it wasn't goodbye. And I'm holding on to your promise that you will follow me soon enough."

"And I will." Atobe tilts his head. "Kiss me again."

A sense of wariness invades Tezuka this time. "I think we've risked enough. If anyone sees us…."

"Then let's go somewhere private," comes quicker than Atobe's Tannhausser serve. "How 'bout your hotel room?"

"We can't go to my hotel room." Tezuka hates the possibility of leaving Atobe upset when he has no choice but to turn down Atobe's advances because. "I'm sharing it with one of my teammates."

Atobe heaves a sigh and says, "And I'm sharing the suite with the entire Japan team," in an exasperated manner. Then a determined glint settles on his eyes. "Let's rent a room in a different hotel."

"That's an even worse idea, Keigo. We'll both get in trouble, no doubt." Tezuka brushes a lock of hair away from Atobe's eye then let his finger slide down to trace the fine contour of his face. "Besides, I have to attend a team meeting in an hour so. Can I get a rain check?"

For a moment, Atobe looks like he's going to protest but then he releases a breath that carried an air of frustration, his shoulders sagging in the process. "I'm pretty sure I'm already in trouble as it is for leaving the arena during the game." He tosses his fringes back with his hand. "But. I wouldn't want you to get in the same predicament. So I guess I'll see you around, Kunimitsu."

The sad smile that graces Atobe's lips is heartbreaking enough to render him immobile so Tezuka remains still as he watches Atobe collect his tennis bag and slings it over his shoulder. He moves toward the gate, pausing for a heartbeat then leaves without sparing Tezuka another glance.

"I'll wait for you, Atobe. You better keep your promise," Tezuka utters against the silence that vibrates in the dimly lit court, his words spiraling into the warm summer air of Melbourne.

 

***

 

**_Omake:_ **

Kintaro and Kirihara have been searching for Atobe for almost two hours (both of them afraid of what Coach Mifune would do to them if they fail) when they ran into Echizen, who, by luck, has seen Atobe in one of the practice courts within the arena's premises. Why they didn't think of looking for Atobe there earlier is beyond Kintaro. He supposes that Kirihara, like him, has presumed Atobe is too upset about the loss to even spend time in a tennis court, of all places. 

Kirihara says though that, "I did try looking for him here earlier but I didn't find him." 

"I saw him in one of the courts hidden in the bushes, the ones with machines," Echizen explains, gesturing down the pathway between courts and giving directions that fly over Kintaro's head. Kirihara looks equally lost.

The guy whom Echizen has introduced as his brother says, "Why don't you just show them the way, chibisuke? I'll see you later at dinner," then leaves with a languid wave of his hand.

"Fine," Echizen grumbles while leading the way and three minutes later, they're standing behind tall bushes, peering into the court where Atobe – and Tezuka, of all people – are standing a bit too close to each other.

A gasp almost escapes Kintaro when the two team captains start kissing but Echizen's hand over his mouth prevents him from making any sound. 

Echizen brings a finger over his lips and Kintaro nods, agreeing to keep quiet, but a clicking sound startles them both. They turn to look at Kirihara only to find him with his phone aimed at Atobe and Tezuka. 

Kintaro is about to ask Kirihara if he has taken a picture of Atobe and Tezuka kissing but then Echizen slaps his hand over Kintaro's mouth (again), grabs Kirihara by the arm and drags both of them away from the interesting scene. 

.  
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End file.
